


Snow

by Jo (mindsofiron)



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Snow, Winter, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 10:45:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1263394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mindsofiron/pseuds/Jo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For this prompt: How about a Clintasha prompt with snow?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [execution_empress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/execution_empress/gifts).



Stepping through the doors of his cabin wrapped up in his robe and prepared only to go as far as his porch ended, Clint spotted Natasha in his front yard crouched in her boots and leggings and the thickest coat he owned. Her bare hands sifted through the snow at her feet and nimbly formed tiny snowmen, and he was so surprised he had to take a moment to make sure he was still awake. 

"Hi," she said, turning and offering him her small, tight-lipped smile even as she brushed the snow off her hands and dried them on his coat.

"What are you doing? You need gloves for that." He returned dumbly, unable to conjure up much more at the sight of her, standing in his front yard like it was the most natural place for her to be.

"I never played with snow in Russia," her accompanying shrug held a trace of something that Clint decided he wasn’t going to analyse, and he picked the leather gloves off the inside of his door and handed them to her, tugging on his own.

"Well, we won’t survive long in this garb, it’s pretty cold, but I wager we have enough time for a snowball fight or two."

She shook her head, tucking the gloves into his coat pocket instead. Her cold fingers grasping his own, she pulled him back into the cabin, nudging him until they ended up sitting across each other with hot drinks between their hands. Clint was just starting to get worried about the silence again when she looked up at him, cheeks flushed and eyes bright from the tea and some sort of joy Clint didn’t expect her to show (she’d always been guarded, inclined to not be honest about any sort of positive emotion she felt).

"Maybe next time," her voice was quiet but light, "You can teach me how to make snow angels and snowmen with your nose."


End file.
